Title:
I never failed in my attempts at beauty because it was a question of perception, one man's monster is another's lover. That summer you chased me into the wilderness, threatening to raise a mob roused by the smell of my cursed blood, just about the only good thing, you said, you'd done since we met. But it'd been years since this was my home; I'd been broken by glares of fear and disgust. A flea could've filled the void I left in your life. When society sneered at us, you abandoned me in the cold, believing I was unworthy of love. Then I was discovered by another, who is teaching me the art of perception. His love is a blanket, resuscitating me from the frostbite of your heart.
Author:
Bio:
What is the sum of 10 and 11:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.